


And Then There Were Four

by Hopetohell



Category: Hellraiser (Movies), Night Hunter (2018), Sand Castle (2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fingering, Handcuffs, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Smut, Triple Penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell
Summary: Walter owes Syverson a favor. He was gonna just bring over some beer, but this is much more fun
Relationships: Walter/mike (hellraiser)/captain Syverson/you
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	And Then There Were Four

**Author's Note:**

> “Put these on” is lifted directly from Night Hunter.

This is Walter in the wild woods with the smell of pine clinging to his coat; these are his footprints in the luminous snow and the way he tracks your steps. This is him breathing winter chill into his lungs, trying to breathe slow, trying to calm the rabbiting of his heart. 

(This is the signal)

Walter is a hunter by nature if not by trade; he sees everything and if he chooses the path of gentleness it is a true credit to him because he sees weakness everywhere and it would be so easy to exploit it. 

(This is the memory)

And when he found you crouching in the snow and said _I’ve got you_ he showed those sharp teeth, smiling like he could smell your need across the clearing; when he had his way with you against a tree it was with your legs wrapped tight around his waist and your _yes, more, harder_ in his ear. 

(This is a false lead; this isn’t the point of the story and you know it. The point is the first meeting, the one at the diner, the one where Walter slid his handcuffs across the table and said the words that reached right up to grip you by your cunt:

_Put these on.)_

And by the time the newcomer arrives you’re already pooling wetness on the vinyl seat, arms behind, cuffs hidden by Walter’s jacket draped over your shoulders. Walter’s gaze is heavy like a blanket; there’s an amused little twist to his lips when the guy says _Syverson_ and moves to shake your hand. And oh, 

_Oh_

That little moment when he realizes why you aren’t responding is a revelation; his eyes blow black with lust in half a moment, as he slides into the booth to cage you in. And Walt won’t ask but if he did you’d acquiesce; you would absolutely and unquestionably let this stranger bend you over the table and fuck you raw right here. 

_(You remember that foreman who let us in the other night? Well. I need to thank him properly. I was planning on bringing him a case of beer, but I thought I’d offer him to you first. You know he’s interested._

_You mean—_

_If you want. I think you’d like him. Thick, hairy, working man’s hands._

_What about Mike? Is he—_

Mike looks up from typing and smiles his fallen angel’s smile, luminous in the glow of the screen. _Babe, I’m really fucking into it. And I could use the inspiration._

_Then yes, fuck yes. Share me out, I want it and I trust you. Absolutely)_

_Call me Sy,_ he says, and that drawl of his is sweet; you can picture him forming words against your slit, syrup-slow and hot with need. _I’m pleased to meet you_ and he’s on his best behavior, not even touching til Walter gives the word. Then those thick fingers are creeping up your thigh under your skirt, past those ruined panties to where you wait for him, hot and wet and wanting.   
_  
Status, sweetheart._

_Green, sir._

_Then, at your leisure, Sy. Finger her for me. Make her come right here at the table. And you’ll be quiet for him, won’t you, sweetheart? The only words I want to hear from you til we get home are your signals if you need them, or if I ask you directly to speak.  
_  
That’s the game and it’s a good one; even at this angle Sy knows what he’s about, knows how to curl his fingers up and forward to find that spongy patch inside you. _Never had an audience before, but I’d have to say I like it._

_(Is he thick? Is he cut? Is he—_

_He’s clean, sweetheart, and kind. And if he lets you on his cock I’ll have you give a full report.)  
_  
There’s that spiraled thread uncoiling in your belly, shining and thick with need; Sy’s hand on you is unrelenting, fingers pressing firm and you’re so good, _so good, sweetheart, don’t hold back when you feel it. I can see it in your face, you’re nearly there._ And _oh_ Walter’s voice is soothing, though it’s coming from a face that looks like thunder, like he’s furious but it’s only him crushing down his need. He wants to the point he nearly can’t contain it and there’s that thought 

(That fantasy, really, of these men inside you all at once, your holes gaping open and Walter’s fingers heavy on your tongue)

of what could happen. It’s not an _anything can happen_ kind of night; Walter’s much too careful for that. But it’s a night that’s rife with newness. And your mind shorts out mid-thought, with the barest brush of beard against your neck as Sy leans in to drive in deep with a press and twist that has you coming hard and wet over his hand. _Darlin, that was beautiful._ And Syverson is smiling through his beard, his voice rough and deep and _if your hands were free you’d jerk me off. But darlin. Here you are all wrapped up like a present for me, and that’s even better._ And he licks his fingers. 

This is two trucks blowing down the highway, one with you and Walter and the other bearing Syverson along. 

(This is the plan)

This is the house where Mike waits, sitting in the big chair. His grin is near as loose as his salute, lazy and open as he’s palming gently at his cock; he’s got his notes and he’s got his drink and he is watching. He is watching and he is waiting and he might play at being young and dumb sometimes but it’s a front; he watches you and Sy and he sees everything. He sees you and he leans his head against Walter’s thigh when he stands beside the chair; Walter’s hand is ruffling Mike’s curls and _did you have a good time, boss?_

_Look at how she glows, Michael. She had one already, right there at the table. Quiet as a mouse, so goddamn good for us._

_My ears are burning._

_Sweetheart. Is that sass?_

And there’s Sy with his fingers under your jaw, tipping your face up to look at him. _How are we gonna play this?_

_We’re flexible. What hole do you want, Syverson? Our sweet girl here wants to be filled to bursting_. 

And Mike, from his chair: _you should have her ass. Helped her prep before you left. She’s all plugged and ready for you, aren’t you, babe?_ There’s Sy’s cock jerking hard at the thought, of a sweet warm ass all slicked and open for him and he had to have noticed at the diner, he had to have, but maybe 

(This is the tease and the promise)

maybe he thought it wouldn’t be for him and he’d have been happy either way; pussy is delectable but _Christ, darlin. Yes, yes, if you’ll let me_ and Sy gets your clothes off as best he can; your shirt is tangling in the cuffs but it’s alright because he can kneel behind you and look at that pretty jewel in your ass; he can tap the base with a thick finger to hear you whine. He can work his teeth into the meat of your ass gently, gently, leaving a circle of indentations that might not be a bruise but goddamn does it feel nice when he licks over them. 

It feels even better when Sy eases the plug from your ass and watches your pretty little hole twitch around nothing— look at that, just begging to be filled up again— and laves his tongue over your hole. It’s like fire, that moment when his tongue points hard and slips inside. It’s intimate and strange and good; you’ve known this guy for an hour and his tongue is in your ass. He moves in licks and stabs of tongue, his hands working the bottle of lube that Mike slips him before leaning in to kiss you wet and open 

_You like it, babe? You thinking about what he’ll be like inside you? Thinking about what it’ll be like when you’re full of all of us, every hole plugged tight with cock? Hey, Sy. How’s her ass? Is it sweet?_ And that’s a growl that vibrates through your ass into your core; that’s Sy hooking his thumbs in your ass and beginning to stretch you wide as Mike guides you to bend over the bed, as he’s stroking clever fingers down your flanks and saying _babe. Babe. Fuck. Like this, I never though t— wish you could see this, he’s so lost to it._

And maybe you can’t see it but you can feel it, the rasp of beard against the crease of ass and thigh. You can feel the cool slide of lube after Sy pulls back to slick his hand; he knows this dance and all its steps. He works you open til at last he’s satisfied, til Mike’s fingers are pruning from how he’s been playing with your slit, teasing, never quite enough so that you’re desperate, chasing between his hand and Sy’s, seeking more. 

(Remember. We are here with you.)

_Michael. Since you’re there why don’t you fuck her cunt, and I’ll take that pretty throat._ Walter helps Mike get into position, reclining with his feet on the floor; there’s that sweet almost-burn of a thick cock stretching at your walls; under Mike’s white tee his nipples pebble hard; the barbells are visible and _Christ_ it’s a sight. 

Without use of your arms you’re entirely dependent on these men to hold you upright; Mike’s hands are steady on your sides, his fingers rippling in patterns. And _that’s— my god—_

_Shh, sweetheart._

—when Sy’s cock first pushes inside slick and hot and achingly tight there’s a moment when he nearly loses himself, when he’s breathing harshly through his nose and you can feel the internal fight, the keep it together argument within himself, the one that says _be still a moment._ And so he waits til that need recedes, til the tight heat around him isn’t entirely too much, and then he starts to move. Slowly, slowly, like glaciers, like window glass, he flows in you and it is sweet, it is counterpoint to Mike who is also moving, careful, careful, moaning at the feel of that second cock inside you, separated from him only by the thinnest bit of skin. 

_So this is what it looks like from the outside. Sweetheart, you’re a vision._ Walter wants, he wants so badly but he checks the angle of your arms in their cuffs, pressed against Sy’s belly as he ruts you from behind; 

_Status, sweetheart._

_Gr— green, sir. Greengreengreen._

Walter comes around to kiss you, biting a little with his sharp teeth; there’s that rasp of his zipper as he’s kneeling on the bed, tangling with Mike to get his cock angled properly at your face. He says _suck, sweetheart_ and so you do; you take him deep and all at once, full beyond breath with Walter’s length down your throat. 

And there’s Sy across your back with a wondering voice, first time with more than just one other and _fuck— fuck—good, this is good, kid, I can feel you in her with me._ But Mike can’t answer; his eyes are fixed on you, on the way Walter’s cock disappears and reappears from your mouth above him, on the way your eyes are bright with tears but not of pain or fear, only the pleasure and the overwhelm. 

And you? Your head is growing light; you hum around Walter’s cock while Mike watches, counting your blinks to be sure. He might not take the role too often but when it’s his turn to watch your signals he takes the task on with his whole heart. Between he and Walter you’re safe as houses; Sy has every promise of a good man and if he sticks around that’d be real nice. 

( _Three holes, three men. Think you can take it, babe?_

_Course I can take it._

_Do you want to take it?_

_Fuck, yes)_

And so you fall apart, and it is good. If asked, you wouldn’t be able to say who came in what order, only that they did, only that you did—again— and yet a third time with the second still rolling through you. And they are a warm and heavy pile around you, slick with fluids; Walter draws the handcuff keys from a chain around his neck and frees your wrists; he and Mike stroke your hair with a good, good girl as their fingers tangle together. 

‘ _Sgood. So good._

_Yeah, sweetheart. You did so well and now you’re full of us, come in every hole. What a sight. What a treat._

For me?

For you. For us. 

And Sy? He’s watching soft and sated, sliding free, with a kiss and a lick at your hole before he joins the pile. ‘Sgood. Do you mind if I stick around a while?

The bed has room enough for four, big guy. Get comfy, take a nap. We’ll still be here.


End file.
